


home is just a room (full of my safest sounds)

by flustraaa



Series: never judge a book by its cover [10]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Cannonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Shakespeare References, car crash, emotionlly Hurt Alec Lightwood, minor PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa





	home is just a room (full of my safest sounds)

“Max- Max _please_?”

His mouth is moving, but he can only hear the relentless high pitched ringing in his ears. He tells himself it’ll go away.

“Buddy, please. Max-please. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?”

The small hand remains limp, and much to Alec’s horror, he realises that it’s not sweat that matts down his little brother’s hair.

He reaches up, struggling to click his seatbelt off of him, grunts of pain at the pressure on his hips. His ears roar with the flush of blood to his head and as sick as it is, he’s relieved his thought are accompanied by something other than the wailing in his ears.

The seat belt releases, and he lands painfully on his side, reaching up to release Max’s seatbelt.

The ten year old falls to the bottom of the car (roof??), with a dampened thud.

Alec grits his teeth at the weight of his brother’s body.

“Maxie. Please- please.”

He presses to slim fingers to the jugular of his brother’s neck, breath hitching in his throat when he feels nothing.

“Max. No. Max please- you can’t you gotta-“

He lays the small boy as well as he can, immediately pressing down on his chest as well as possible in the condensed space.

It’s obvious that there’s little hope. Slowly, Alec curls himself around his youngest sibling, the once warm substance seeping through his clothes.

His heart _aches_.

And then the lights are flashing in the car, hands on his ankles pulling him through the gap where the door used to be- when had they cut the door off- who-

“No!” He can’t hear his voice, he can only feel the raw cracking of his throat, “No! Save, Max! Save my brother! Please!”

He blinks up at the medic above him- though he can barely see between the blurring of his tears on his waterline and the bright lights checking his eyes.

The officers’ mouth is moving but he can’t hear a word- and it’s then that he realises how tired he really is.

“You have to get Max-“

The woman nods, though he can see the way she looks at him with remorse and it’s then that he knows if he wakes up again, it won’t be pleasant.

He can see her mouth moving, and it’s only because of the medical texts he’d found in his grandfather’s study that he can make out the word ‘Midazolam’ before the words falls dark.

It’s then that Alec wakes, shaking and sweating feverishly- the royal blue silk wrapped around him tight enough to suffocate him- much like that car all those years ago.

He flails, his exhausted and willowy limbs moving too sluggishly for his brain- and it appears now his stomach has caught up to speed.

He crumbles out from underneath the scorching sheets, straggling to gather himself enough to stumble to the bathroom.

He hits the doorframe, but it barely stops his momentum. Crashing through the threshold, the smell of sandalwood hits him like a wall before it’s replaced by the product of his wretches.

Once his stomach has been pacified- mostly anyway- he rests his head on the edge of the bowl, reaching a shaking arm to flush the toilet.

He takes one, two, three deep breaths, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

It’s only then that he sees the blood coating his hands- the not yet coagulated liquid sending chills up his spine as he drags himself to the sink. He runs his hands under the faucet, currents of cold water doing little to soothe the burning agony that coats his body.

Ironic, he thinks solemnly, he never thought he’d be as hysteric and mad as Lady Macbeth and yet; he can hear the calls of the play.

 _Out, damned spot! Out I say_!

He can see Magnus creeping in from his peripheral vision, and he whips to face him. His boyfriend creeps towards him like Alec is nothing more than a wild animal- undomesticated and uncontrollable.

Alec follows Magnus’ gaze to the mirror and finally sees himself. His face is pale, all but the fresh red that had risen to his capillaries. His hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat and his eyes are wide- but what truly catches his eyes; the way his mouth moves with noiseless words.

Then, there’s two hands holding his wrists and he can just barely make out Magnus saying ‘look’ and ‘hands’.

He does.

His hands are red, but it’s no longer with blood. All that lies in the gooey substance’s wake is his scarlet red skin, bleeding an cracking from the wear of his jagged nails.

Cerulean eyes flash back up to Magnus and he halts. This time, the words are clear.

“I love you. Breathe.”

He doesn’t tell Alec he’s okay, he doesn’t imply anything other than the truth and with the weight of the world crushing his shoulders.

He finally breathes, melting into Magnus hold and letting our sobs that he can feel the vibrations of through his entire being.

He’s always been force fed that everything is okay, and with Magnus he knows that everything is not... but somehow, that is exactly what he needs to breathe.

As the hiccuping sobs subside, and Magnus helps him clean up; turning on the cold water and leaving him to his own devices. Sitting on the vanity and just watching, patient and kind.

And Alec, sucks in a long deep breath; watching the trails of blood slip from his body and into the drain.

  
Azure eyes stare listlessly at the shadow drowned wall across from him, fingers gripping at the sweat dampened sheets. Two fingers meet his collarbone in a gentle tap, and his eyes fly up to meet Magnus lips.

He catches the word ‘up’, before Magnus takes his clammy hand in a warm grip, leading him to sit on the elaborate chair in the corner of the room. A sweet-tempered kiss is pressed to his temple, water soaked locks of hair swept from his eyes.

He watches Magnus walk away, setting the pillows to the side and taking the sheets of the bed before pulling out a golden set from the linen closet in the bathroom.

He meticulously rounds the bed, smoothing out the sheets before setting a newly washed comforter down. Finally, he sets the pillows, wrapped in fresh cases, down on the bed.

It’s tedious, Alec can’t help but think- and yet his eyes still follow the movements. They’re sure in every motion, never once hesitating and Alec registers that this is exactly what he needs right now.

‘Darling’ he makes out, but his brain is moving to slow to make out the rest of his concerned words.

He stops, and he can feel the skin between his brows crinkling, lethargic brain desperately trying to grasp the sounds he can’t hear.

He’s not sure what he’s said, but it’s something that makes Magnus stop cold in his tracks.

He reads the words, ‘why’ and ‘sorry’ and it’s then that he understands he must have blurted his guilt for ruining Magnus’ rest.

Alec only shakes his hand, melting into Magnus frame when he’s lifted from his chair, both of them shuffling onto the bed. Magnus moves to dress them with blankets, but Alec tightens his grip shaking his head.

He doesn’t think he’ll be able to move for a week. Everything he’d built in the past years draining out of him suddenly, the fire of life that raged being drowned by the sea of guilt and frustration that follows him like a dark cloud.

Magnus nods, and Alec shuffles to lay his head on his boyfriend’s chest, feeling the beat of his head below his ear, and if he closes his eyes, he can hear them amplified.

Sleep warm fingers trace his back through the cotton shirt he wears.

He allows himself to drown in the things he can feel now, warm and support led by his boyfriend. And it’s with that thought, that he allows his eyes to shut, hoping for a kinder sleep than before. 


End file.
